PAYDAY Bremen – A DIY Contest With Heart, Chaos & Chips for Tricks

What happens when you hand over the megaphone to the scene, ditch the prize money politics, and let the skaters run the show? You get Payday Bremen — a raw, sweaty, and highly emotional contest that went down at Ü-Park Bremen on a chilled-out Saturday and spiraled into something that felt much bigger than your average local jam.

Organized by Bremen’s own Coach Frank, Payday wasn’t backed by big logos or energy drink budgets. It was a DIY operation from start to finish — patched together with heart, duct tape, and a lineup full of German locals and AMs ready to throw down. Among the crowd were Gino Körner (you know him from our crew videos on YouTube — Bremen’s hometown destroyer) and Mika Möller, who took a hit during warm-up but came back swinging once the cash-for-tricks started, helped set the tone with full-send energy.

Part One – The Classic Contest Format, With Zero Corporate Polish

The first video captures the standard run format — if you can call anything about Payday “standard.” No glossy media coverage, no scoreboard theatrics. Just skaters pushing their limits in a concrete playground, backed by a crowd that actually gives a shit. The energy was loud, loose, and full of love — the kind of scene you don’t see enough of anymore.

Part Two – Chips, Tricks, and Controlled Mayhem

After the heats wrapped, it was time to ramp up the chaos with the Cash For Tricks Session. But instead of handing out envelopes or checks, Coach Frank and the crew handed out poker chips for landed tricks — which skaters could cash in later. No judges. No rounds. Just raw trick-for-cash action.

The result? Controlled mayhem across multiple obstacles — hips, rails, gaps, ledges, and one beat-up 3-stair that saw more action in 30 minutes than most parks do in a month.

Watch Video 2 – Scene Energy Continues – PAYDAY Bremen Best Trick Cash Session:

This Is What Indie Contests Should Feel Like

Payday wasn’t perfect — and that’s exactly the point. It was sweaty, sketchy, and stupid fun. It reminded everyone why these grassroots contests still matter: real skating, real emotion, real community.

In the end, it wasn’t about podiums or prestige — it was about the ones who actually keep skating alive.
As Coach Frank said: “Those are the kids that buy the boards.”